


Yule 1420.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, Love songs, carols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: Pippin writes a song to woo Diamond and his friends help him sing it.
Relationships: Diamond Took/Pippin Took
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Yule 1420.

  
Merry was so full that he shifted awkwardly to loosen the fierce grip of his breeches on his tender waist. But it had been worth it, for yule in the Took household was taken very seriously. Every inch of the long table was covered in heaped platters, most of which were pastries and pies, with a bewildering array of cakes, sufficient to thwart the most thorough attempts at trying a piece of each. He himself had eaten six snow pies, his childhood favourite, a large flat mushroom topped with herby mashed potatoes and wrapped in flaking pastry. There were more, piled in front of him, but his greed was defeated by his groaning belly, and he sipped his Winyards and sighed regretfully. There was a commotion at the other end of the table, young Issy was sick on the floor, and led away by his scolding mother, as others rushed for hot water and soap to clear up. Merry laughed, it was almost a necessary part of growing up, for a hobbit, eating too much... His eyes met those of Pippin's mother Eglantine, who was frowning at him. Merry straightened his face and sat up, but Eglantine mouthed words at him "Where is he ?"  
At that, Merry remembered that Pippin had not come to dinner, his chair was still empty, his plate untouched. Merry looked in astonishment at Eglantine, who flicked her eyes to the door. Merry nodded and rose to his feet, his excuses unheard in the babble of hobbit voices, and slipped away to find Pippin.

  
Lindir was delighted, his composition on the fading of the Three Rings was nearing readiness for presentation in the Hall of Fire. Despite the length and complexity of the piece, and the sensitivity of the subject matter, the choir had taken to it eagerly, and he was looking forward to the first performance. He sighed with happiness and smiled when Glorfindel approached him, but Glorfindel was not smiling.  
"Glorfindel ! Did my work not please you ?"  
"Lindir, it is beautiful, excellent, and so swiftly produced ! All elvendom will marvel, truly. But I must question your... I must question you."  
Lindir was shocked; blythe Glorfindel suddenly stern, it was unheard of, especially in these days of peace. And he had never been musical, Lindir had been surprised to see him at the rehearsal, and could see his thoughts echoed in the eyes of the choir, who were gathering in groups to leave. Glorfindel, the mighty hunter, felt their attention and turned his head briefly, then fixed Lindir with his deep blue eyes "Will you walk with me ?"  
Lindir blinked slowly, they had never been friends, in all these ages, but curiosity, and a mild sense of affront, made him incline his head graciously.  
  
Glorfindel led him up the Fountain Path, where the willows interspersed with the fountains, and the moss and fern grew thick at their feet. Lindir was silent, the sense of affront seemed to come as much from Glorfindel as from himself, he was reminded for a moment of the bad days in Valinor, when every conversation had become an argument. He was irritated with Glorfindel for spoiling his day, though the walk, and the light through the trees, lifted his mood. Glorfindel stopped at a turn and stepped out onto Elrond's Stone, with the view down the length of Imladris. Lindir sighed contentedly and stepped up beside Glorfindel "Well, Glorfindel, whatever your purpose, I thank you for bringing me here, it is long since I admired this view !"  
But Glorfindel frowned at him "It was not the view, but the path that I wished to show you.   
You will think my anger personal, for I myself was absent from your song, but I assure you that it is not so. My anger is on behalf of all those whose toil and blood was spilled, but whose names, whose deeds, whose KIND you have ignored."  
Lindir gaped at him, but Glorfindel fixed him with cold wrath "You will not perform this piece unaltered. You will ride with me to listen to some friends of mine, and then you will rewrite your composition in closer harmony with the truth." 

Pippin was hunched over his desk, quill in hand, dripping blots of ink onto a scroll. He did not hear Merry arrive, step up behind him and snatch up the scroll. In blotched and hesitant hand, unlike his normal eager scrawl, Pippin had composed a verse

"holly green and berry red  
up you from your sleepy bed

trees so dark, so white the snow  
let me see your fair cheek glow

when at last the sky is blue  
grant to me your love so true"

Merry nodded and pursed his lips "Well, let me hear the tune then !" But Pippin looked up at him miserably.  
"I can think only of her voice" he said in wretched embarrassment. Merry bit his lip and nodded. Diamond of Long Cleeve was an unlikely choice for young Pip, lovely but stern, and known to be one of the wisest in the Shire. He himself had considered her, but been daunted, preferring laughter to debate. But Pippin was in the grip of passion. Merry held back laughter and tried to remember Minas Tirith and Pippin’s own, (well-hidden) intelligence. Perhaps Diamond was the hobbit Pippin needed, to challenge him to grow in wisdom as well as in height !  
"A tune..." said Merry thoughtfully, seeing Pippin sigh with relief and ease back in his chair. Merry pulled up the other chair and stretched out his legs, resting the scroll on his bulging stomach "A tune..." 

They were silent for a time, Merry was hopeless at composition and knew he could do nothing but be there for his friend. Still, he stared at the simple words until he knew them backwards, and was startled when, in his clear voice, Pippin softly sang, a simple tune, half-familiar, but with a faint echo of the elves, berries on the holly.  
"Why Pip, that’s lovely ! You must go and sing it to her at once !"  
"What ? No ! No, she would laugh at me, I could not possibly !"  
"Peregrine Took, you have faced Ents, orcs, trolls, a balrog, the nazgul and the... and the palantir ! If you lack the courage to sing to a maiden..."

Pippin looked in anguish at Merry, then thrust his chair back and bent over the fire, poking vigorously until the logs crumbled in a fountain of popping sparks, one of which landed on the fur of Merry's foot. He yelped and leapt to his feet "By the stars ! Do be careful Pippin or you'll burn the Smials down around us !"  
Pippin slapped his own forehead "Oh Merry, do forgive me, I don’t know what I'm doing half the time, I can’t think, I can’t eat, it’s just..." he reached distractedly into the cupboard and brought out a bottle of wine "Here, let me just..."  
But Merry took the bottle and shoved Pippin back into his chair "Oh do sit down before you do any more damage, I don’t want a wine bottle on my other foot !"   
He poured the wine, handed a glass to Pip and sat down himself with a sigh, still rubbing one foot with the other. After a drink of the smooth wine he sighed again, more easily, and looked at Pippin, who had not moved. "Come along Pip ! Don’t let me drink alone ! Come, let us drink to Gandalf, who would laugh at your hesitation."  
"Oh Merry, it’s just, what if she laughs at me ?"  
"What if she does ? She knows of your valour, what then ? Do you speak to her ? And more importantly, do you listen to her ? Let her laugh, it may be that then she will look more kindly on you."  
"More kindly ! She doesn’t look at me at all !"  
Merry nodded thoughtfully, Diamond was known to be quiet, and keen on embroidery, and reading... She rarely even danced. Poor Pippin, it was easy to see why he was at his wits end. Help was needed. Merry grinned and sat up "We'll sing it with you ! We'll go carolling, to Bag End, where we'll collect Sam and Frodo, then on to Long Cleeve, where we'll sing a few classics, and then when we know she’s listening, we'll sing her your new song !"  
Hope grew in Pippin’s face like a slow sunrise "Oh Merry, will you really ? But Frodo ? Do you... are you sure ?"  
Merry frowned then gritted his teeth "Yes, singing with friends to woo a fair maiden, yes, I think it will do him good, remind him why, if you see what I mean."  
Pippin nodded silently and Merry sipped his wine. It would do them all good.

  
Barliman Butterbur ushered the two elves into Gandalf’s Parlour. Gandalf had furnished it himself, driving a wagonload from Rivendell in the glorious summertime, and they had unloaded chests and chairs scattered with petals, that had filled the air like sweet-scented snow. The room was sparser than a hobbit, or even a man, would have chosen, but there was a fine couch, and two tall armchairs by the wide fire, though the hangings on the wall were somewhat strange. But Gandalf dined like a king and tipped like a drunkard, and besides, Barliman was personally as fond of Gandalf as he was of his own late father, and would have done anything for him, if he remembered. But Gandalf was away off somewhere in the Wild, and here was Glorfindel with a dark-haired elf from Rivendell. Barliman took their orders and managed to contain the hundreds of questions babbling inside him, and closed the door quietly behind him.  
Glorfindel smiled and hung up his cloak, then sat down by the fire and crossed his legs. Lindir drifted around the room, glanced out of the windows and finally seated himself across from Glorfindel with a patient smile "Is this the place ? Will I become enlightened here ?"  
Glorfindel snorted softly "You must feel such contempt for Elrond."  
Lindir raised his brows "Contempt ? Whatever do you mean ?"  
"You compared mortals to sheep. Elrond has mortal blood, on both sides. You must view him with contempt."  
Lindir gaped for a moment, then pulled himself upright and looked through hooded eyes at Glorfindel "That is precisely the kind of speech one would anticipate from someone who spends so much time in the fields with the horses that he sounds like one."  
Fortunately for both, perhaps, their quarrel was delayed by the entrance of Butterbur and two hobbits bearing heavy trays. They neatly laid the table with steaming soup and hot savoury pies and a thickly-iced cake. Butterbur bowed to the elves "The wine is Gandalf’s own, from Dorwinion, away east somewhere, so he says. He brought it all the way from Mirkwood as was, beyond the mountains ! Well, I hope all is to your satisfaction, sirs, and be sure to ring for the least little thing !" he laughed, and left them to their feast.   
Glorfindel watched closely as Lindir ate, and as the music came up from the common room. There were a few fine voices in Bree, and they were in good form. But it was the fare that was winning the heart of dour Lindir, the excellence of the pies, the fine wine, the half-familiar surroundings... Finally Lindir looked at Glorfindel "It is almost... Well no... It is a little like Imladris, the good food, the singing. I liked that last tune, about the maiden gathering flowers..."  
"What do sheep know of music ?"  
"Really, Glorfindel, I know that you are fond of these... people, but what has that to do with me, or with the Elves ?"

Bag End was in turmoil, Rosie would not let them in, she was scrubbing the hallway. Frodo waved regretfully at them from the doorway of his study "I'm not allowed out, I didn’t leave when I was told ! Wait for me in the Ivy !"  
"Where’s Sam ?" cried Merry, and Sam appeared at the cellar stairs, his face smudged and dirty "Why Mr Merry, Mr Pippin ! Come to help with the housework ?"  
"Not a bit of it ! We wouldn’t dream of intruding on the experts ! But we’ll see you both in the Ivy later ?"  
Sam looked at Rosie who sighed and sat back on her heels "Yes, why not. Order in supper for us, it was only going to be cold things anyway..."  
Merry and Pippin hurried away in case Rosie asked them to chop wood or something, but the door was closed behind them before they had even climbed down the steps. Merry looked thoughtfully at Pippin "Are you sure you want to get married ?"  
Pippin laughed darkly, a sound Merry had never expected to hear from him, "Just you wait, Meriadoc Brandybuck, just you wait. When you come weeping at my door, singing the praises of your beloved and telling me of the unique agony you find yourself to be in ! Well, I shall know how to respond !"  
"I say Pippin, don’t be like that ! I'm trying to help ! I'm here aren’t I ? We'll help you woo the fair Diamond and you can tease me all you like whenever I finally lose my heart, alright ?"  
Pippin sighed "There are so many songs about love, everybody gets so excited about it, and girls go on so... But it seems to me that when it’s happening to you, that is to me... Well. It’s not flowery and pretty, it’s a pain, here in my chest, and my belly is in knots, and my head is stiff with sleeplessness and..."  
Merry held up his hands and laughed "My poor Pippin ! We’ll have to get you something stronger than ale for such torments !"  
Pippin frowned at him, but Merry had stopped dead and was pointing up the Road.  
"Glorfindel ! It can be no other, for I would know Asfaloth among thousands ! But who is it who rides with him ? It is not one of Lady Arwen's brothers."  
Pippin narrowed his eye "My word, I think it’s Lindir."  
The two hobbits looked in astonishment at each other, remembering the haughty Lindir and his proud words to poor old Bilbo. Suddenly Merry laughed "So, you are shy of Diamond ? Will you sing before Lindir ?"  
Pippin drew himself upright "Gladly ! For I do not heed the words of the ignorant. Lindir knows nothing of hobbits ! Very well, we shall show him ! But, I say Merry..." he faltered and lowered his voice "We need not start with my little tune, we could have one of the old favourites like 'Greet the Snow' to start with."  
"We could" said Merry "But it is an elvish song, we only sing the translation. For all we know, Lindir composed it himself."  
Pippin gaped at Merry "By the stars, do you think he did ? It amazes me that Bilbo has the nerve to sing to them at all !"  
Merry laughed "Ah well, in this instance, it is we who are ignorant. But Bilbo has lived among them since we were children, he knows them as well as anyone can, I suppose."  
Pippin sighed, the two elves drew nearer, picking up the pace, and were upon them before the doors of the Ivy. 

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, Esquire of Rohan ! Peregrine Took, Guard of the Citadel ! Stars shine upon you both !" Glorfindel leaped down from the mighty Asfaloth and grinned happily at the two hobbits, who stepped back slightly. He was overwhelming, as big as sunshine, as strong as wind and as refreshing as rain on dusty ground. But Pippin, in his (usually) indomitable way, was laughing himself "Greetings, and welcome to The Shire, my lords. Which way are you journeying ?"  
"No further ! For now. But it was you, and Frodo and Sam, that we sought. Do you come now with us to Bag End ?"  
Merry held up his hands "It is yule, which means that every hole is an uproar of cleaning. We are banished to the Ivy, Frodo is trapped in his study and Sam is hard at work in the cellar. Will you wait with us ? For later, when the moon is high, we shall embark on a quest to woo a fair maiden."  
Glorfindel grinned at Lindir "Here is matter for your thought ! What say you ?"  
"My good hobbits, it would be both honourable and instructive, I shall be delighted to follow. I am at your service." Lindir bowed gracefully and smiled hesitantly, Merry and Pippin both bowed, and Merry led them inside.

Tansy welcomed them with her usual warmth, ushering them into the back parlour with the view out over the Water. She rubbed her hands together and smiled kindly at them all "Now then gentlemen, I've been making my dumplings this morning, how would a bit of stew suit ? And then there’s applecake, or cherry cobbler, and we've some nice bottles in the cellar, or the ale is very good this year, if you’d like a glass to two to quench your thirst ?"  
Merry swept his arm across the empty table "Bring it all, dear Tansy, and put your apron back on, Rosie is bringing Bag End down here for supper, she’s scrubbing !"  
Tansy laughed "Ah, poor Rosie, that place is bigger than the Ivy ! And Sam and Mr Frodo are both so careless with the mud, bachelors too long, that’s the trouble." She looked pointedly at Merry and Pippin, then laughed and swirled away. Pippin sighed "If only she knew !"  
Glorfindel folded his hands across his chest and sat back in his chair "What’s this ? A love story ? Tell all !"

  
Merry and Pippin had no trouble in joining the Bag Enders for second supper. Lindir was silent, eating heartily but listening, and watching with round, attentive eyes. He had seemed moved by Pippin’s suffering, and listened to the song with his head tilted back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He had spoken politely in praise of it, but Pippin had not expected more. Rosie was tired and quiet herself, and Sam sat grinning beside her, while the two elves at the head of the table towered over them and ate such vast quantities that even Merry was taken aback. Lindir took a moment of silence to address Glorfindel "These dumplings now, why have you not brought the recipe to Imladris ?"  
The table laughed as one, for Tansy kept the recipe in her heart, it had never been written, but passed down through the generations, bringing guests back again and again to the Ivy, for that perfect, light dumpling, bobbing in the rich stew. But Glorfindel looked seriously at Lindir "The elves of Lórien sing already of how they shall miss their beloved mallorns. But before I go, my last words shall be with the magnificent Tansy, and I shall beg her to tell me her recipe for dumplings, promising her that none shall hear me speak of it until we have passed from these shores forever."  
The table was silent for a moment, still and silent, only the steam rising from the plates moved in the stillness, and the crackle of the fire was loud in the silence. Frodo bowed his head slowly, and Sam looked anxiously at him, but Glorfindel raised his glass "Come my friends ! Here we are gathered together in warmth and merry (he winked at Merry) comfort, with a delightful adventure in hand ! Let us drink in celebration of friendship !" He turned to Lindir, who drew in a breath and then smiled slowly.  
"Yes. To friendship." Lindir raised his glass and met the eyes of Frodo, and felt a chill run through him, for the young hobbit had seen things that Lindir, for all his long and war-striven life, had never imagined. He turned his eyes away to the windows and started to his feet "Snow ! It is snowing !"  
They all rushed to the windows, and peered out. The air was suddenly full of fat flakes, drifting and swirling to the ground. Even as they watched, a white cloak was drawn over the hills of Hobbiton, and the Water was a black shadow in the midst.   
Frodo turned to Pippin "You wish to go carolling in this ?"  
But Merry laughed "Long Cleeves is no distance, and besides, after Caradhras, this is almost jolly. Besides, I am certain that we shall be invited in, old Violet will not want Diamond hanging out of an open window to hear you !"  
But Pippin looked despondent "Do you think she'll listen ? Oh I hope so !"

Glorfindel laughed with the others, but Lindir smiled at Pippin, sharing the nerves of the composer, and said softly "I too write music. Will you walk with me, for I have some thoughts on your piece, if you would hear them ?"  
Pippin looked up at the grave elf "I say, have you really ? It’s only a little hobbit song, you know..."  
"Ah, 'only'... Love is love, Peregrine, as pain is pain. Glorfindel has brought me here to, as he thinks, remind me of this. Alas, his task was greater than he supposed, for I have never considered the... the other Children of Ilúvatar at all. I considered myself justified since I have striven greatly to further our, that is the elves', understanding of the stars, and devoted myself to music. But my ignorance is inexcusable, I have stumbled blindly through the world while others" he looked thoughtfully at Frodo "have borne intolerable burdens, burdens beyond my ken. I feel both old and foolish, and newly-born. Let us sing together, my friend, and win the heart of the fair maiden."  
Pippin swallowed "But Lindir, do not rebuke yourself ! We hobbits are far more ignorant. Sam's Gaffer thinks Merry is foreign ! He cannot believe how far Sam has travelled, he cannot imagine a world so large !"  
But Lindir smiled "I have heard your songs, your people dwelt once by Anduin, you know the world to be large, the Gaffer knows perfectly well where you have been and what you have done, as I am beginning to. Have you not imagined his pride ? His love for his fine son, honoured by all ? Do you not suppose that the Gaffer feigns ignorance to encourage his son to tell him again of his travels, to watch the eyes of Rosie shine, and see his son's face lit up with eager recollection ?"  
Pippin opened his mouth and closed it, and thought of his own mother, asking her endless questions... "But Lindir, you seem to see into my very thoughts, into my very heart. How can you say you know nothing of hobbits ?"  
Lindir looked down "I know of the heart, and the family. My lesson here is that I had not considered that you... that hobbits, that anyone but elves had hearts with which to feel. I never thought of it at all.   
Oh Pippin, I have made some music... It concerns the rings, the Three, you know. Of their fading, and how this has changed the... the world, for the elves. Glorfindel has heard this piece and rebuked me for leaving out hobbits. And I did not understand why. But your song, yes, it is simple, but it concerns love, contrasting the sharpness of holly and the fullness of fruit, the wild and the home, the dark and the light, and sings of hope, and love, and the future. In six lines ! My piece... my pieces... my shards... Well, they would send you to sleep, you would awaken refreshed, and we should still be singing the second part, of four !"

  
Diamond was writing a letter to her older sister, who was expecting, when the sound of laughter and singing made her lift her head. But it was almost yule, the carollers were abroad, and her mother had been simmering great pans of spiced wine, filling Long Cleeve with intoxicating aromas. Diamond picked up another piece of shortbread and bit into the crumbly sweetness. Yule was her favourite feast, she had a new green gown, the material had come all the way from Gondor, and she was longing to wear it.   
Her mother hurried in, carrying the gown "Diamond, my dear, you had better wear this. Oh look at you, covered in crumbs, with ink all over your, now get washed, quickly dear, while I look out your... Well, don’t just stand there ! Get along with you !"  
"But mother, who is coming ?"  
Her mother looked at her with knowing eyes "See for yourself" she said and gestured to the window.

  
The snow fell thickly around them, they carried lanterns, but the lights of Long Cleeve lay red and golden on their shining eyes and faces. Their breath gusted into clouds of fog that scattered the light, twinkling on the snowflakes and gleaming on the whiteness lining every window and blanketing the low wall. The air seemed to sparkle like the tune, Diamond stood in the doorway with her mother, the green gown half hidden under a fine shawl that her mother had wrapped around her shoulders saying gruffly "You’re not to be disappointed with your gifts at yule, for this was to be the chief." But Diamond kissed her mother and stroked the fine weave, and saw her mother’s eyes glisten like snowflakes.  
No such music had ever been heard at Long Cleeve. Half the village crept into the light, listening in silence. Diamond found her eyes fixed on the marvellous elves, whose voices brought a deep harmony to the high notes of the hobbits. But in the centre at the front, with Merry and Frodo Baggins on either side of him, and Sam and Rosie singing (more to each other) behind, was Peregrine Took, staring at her with a mixture of pride and pleading. They finished 'Greet the Snow' and all turned to Pippin, who looked her in the eyes, smiled, bowed, then began to sing a song she had not heard before. It was a little elvish, but nice enough, and of course Pippin had a good voice. Diamond looked at Frodo, and understood that Pippin had written the song himself, and brought his friends with him to sing it to her.  
His friends ! She thought, gazing up at the elves. The golden-haired one grinned at her, and glanced at the dark-haired one, who smiled and bowed his head to her. She felt her knuckles tighten on her shawl; it was too much, it was like a blizzard on the doorstep, in the falling snow.  
But the elves began to sing, picking up the tune with Pippin, and exploring its harmonies. There were some good singers in Long Cleeve, and when the song began again, they joined in, and the music filled the air, and their hearts, and Diamond listened in astonishment as her own mother began to sing, stepping out into the snow, and Diamond looked at Pippin, who held out his hand, and she stepped out into the glittering light, gasping at the cold, gazing upwards and laughing as the flakes settled on her nose and eyelashes, and gathered in the pattern of the shawl. Without looking down from the tumbling flakes, she felt Pippin’s hand warm in hers, and her heart warmed with it. She looked down then, and smiled at his singing face, and took a breath, then began to sing with him.


End file.
